


Can't Get Any Closer

by mommymuffin



Series: Breathe Me [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Blood Bond, Established Relationship, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mentions of Argents, Protective Scott, Soul Bond, Werewolf Hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:00:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1523729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mommymuffin/pseuds/mommymuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I came over here to get the truth. I guess I found it."</p><p>"Why are you upset, Scott?" Derek opens his big mouth and asks before Stiles can stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azamiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azamiko/gifts).



> Oh, look! Part five! Second chapter to follow soon!!
> 
> I'm gifting this work to the wonderful Azamiko without whom I probably would not have continued this series. She wanted a reaction from Scott so badly and I just couldn't say no! A promise is a promise and here it is: her long awaited Scott part! I hope you like it, Azamiko! Thank you for your support!
> 
> Thanks to all of you for coming back time and again, lovelies!

Scott is at Stiles' front door the next day.

His brow is furrowed, not in his usual confused fashion, but in anger and hurt this time. There's a hard set to his jaw, like he's gritting his teeth behind tightly pressed lips. His nostrils flare as soon as Stiles opens the door and his expression splits wide open as he yells, " _Where is he?"_ His eyes flash gold and Stiles quickly yanks him inside before they make a scene that's hard to explain on the front porch.

"Scott, jesus, it's broad daylight!" Stiles points out.

" _Derek!_ " Scott roars. Apparently he's heard him upstairs.

Derek appears at the top of the steps and glowers down at Scott. Stiles is starting to panic. This is not good. He checks his phone and thanks the stars when he sees the text from his dad. There was a break-in last night that his dad is still dealing with; he won't be home for at least a few more hours. All Stiles has to deal with is keeping Scott and Derek from tearing each other apart in the middle of the front hall. Totally doable.

"I'll kill you!" Scott screams and lunges toward the stairs.

Totally mostly doable.

Stiles thinks fast, finds the soundbyte he'd downloaded to his phone a while ago for just such an emergency. The high-pitched noise that Stiles himself cannot hear stops Scott dead in his tracks. He falls to his knees and covers his ears. Derek, still at the top of the staircase, manages to stay standing, but is also trying to keep the sound out of his ears. Their faces are mirrored images of pain and frustration.

"Stiles!" Scott shouts.

"Turn it off!" Derek commands.

"Only if you both promise to put the claws away," Stiles says. He had not failed to notice when Derek's slipped out in response to Scott's.

The werewolves both glare at each other for a good five seconds and then Scott retracts his claws, shooting a look at Stiles. Derek does the same.

"Good," Stiles says and hits the stop button. Both werewolves sag in relief. "Now, can we please talk this through? If the claws come back out, so does the hurty noise. You get me?"

They both nod, but Scott's eyes are back on Derek and he's furious.

"Let's go—" Stiles starts, but cuts off abruptly when he realizes that moving this conversation to his bedroom—his bedroom that smells like sex and Derek and  _sex with Derek_ —would be a bad, bad plan. He finishes, "To the living room. To have this conversation. Shall we?"

Derek is giving him a look like he knows exactly what Stiles had been about to say. Stiles, maturely, sticks his tongue out at him.

"Scott, um," Stiles says once they've gathered in the living room, "what...brings you here? So early on a Sunday?"

Scott looks petulant as he explains, "Danny saw you two at the club last night. He texted me for details. About a relationship I wasn't even aware of."

Stiles grimaces. That part was maybe entirely his fault. He probably should have mentioned the recent developments between him and Derek to Scott. It's not like he had been completely avoiding telling him or anything. Well. Okay, he had. But as a best friend, he really should have sucked it up and just told him. This situation could have most likely been avoided then. No. That's not true. Scott still would have tried to shred Derek to pieces, what with his extreme dislike of him and all.

Scott continues. "I didn't think it was true, that maybe Danny had mistaken Derek for someone else. But he remembered him from your room that time."

"Hey, I told him he was my cousin. Miguel," Stiles protests.

Derek rolls his eyes at the memory.

Scott frowns and says, "Danny's not stupid, Stiles."

"Yeah, well, that's true."

"Anyway," Scott says tersely. "I told him you and Derek weren't dating and he said "it hadn't looked that way to him." So I came over here to get the truth. I guess I  _found_  it."

"Why are you upset, Scott?" Derek opens his big mouth and asks before Stiles can stop him. Come to think of it...they're not in sync anymore. Apparently active maintenance is required for full synchronicity. Stiles will keep that in mind.

"Because you slept with my best friend, Derek! Because you're an asshole and a bad person and a bad alpha and I don't want you anywhere near Stiles!"

Stiles sees the way Derek's shoulders shift, the way his expression darkens like stormclouds. This isn't going to be good.

"Really, Scott? You sure about that? Because you sure do leave him with me a lot," Derek spits. "Like the time you threw me in his Jeep while I was dying and disappeared for hours. Or how about the time we were trapped in a pool together and you didn't deem Stiles' phone call important enough to mind. Or how about a few weeks ago when Stiles started having a panic attack at the vet clinic and you walked out and left him there to  _die_!"

Scott abruptly gets that kicked-puppy look on his face and stares at Derek for a second before looking over at Stiles searchingly. "Stiles?"

Stiles braces himself for the conversation he never wanted to have. He mans up and says what he needs to say in spite of his feelings. "Derek's right, Scott. You do...tend to..."  _Don't say leave me, don't say leave me, that sounds so pathetic, god,_ "...leave us thrown together a lot. Particularly in situations where one or both of us are going to die."

"What...what is he talking about at the vet clinic? You had a panic attack? I never...you never told me about that."

"Yeah. It was all right though. Derek, um, found me. And helped me and...stayed with me..."

At the news Scott turns stubborn and defensive. "That's when it started, didn't it? When  _this_  started."

Stiles looks guiltily at Derek, who has turned stone-faced and unresponsive. He doesn't even glance at Stiles, when the teen responds, "We didn't...we didn't sleep together until two nights ago. But yeah. That's when it started."

Derek does look at him, then. Their eyes hold each other for a moment and Stiles turns to Scott, says, "There's...probably something else we should tell you.

"This isn't some sort of fling," Stiles begins and Scott's eyes fill with fury. "It's a lot more permanent than that. We..." Stiles looks to Derek at a loss.

Derek speaks up. "We're bound by blood. Stiles' magic has manifested our bond in the form of a wolf that answers his call. Deal with it."

Stiles drops his head into his hand. That definitely could have gone better.

Scott sputters. " _What?_ Is he _joking?_ "

"Uh, no. No, he's not," Stiles supplies.

Scott has never looked at Stiles like this before. This look of complete and utter betrayal. It hurts. Stiles is about to start backpedaling. Apologizing. Groveling, even, if that's what it takes to get that look off of Scott's face. But Derek's hand on the small of his back is warm and strong. A reminder. That he's not alone anymore.

A warm pulse of magic flicks through him and his anxiety settles. He leans back into Derek's touch and his gaze is steady when it lands on Scott.

"It's not a joke, Scott," he says firmly. He holds up a hand and Derek slides his up to link their fingers together. The werewolf's thumb sweeps down in a gentle stroke then swiftly punctures Stiles' plump palm.

Scott's eyes flare brightly as the smell of blood hits the air. He jerks like he's going to lunge, but Stiles shoots him a sharp look that keeps him in his place.

Derek bends his thumb to prick his own palm high up on his hand near the base of his pinky, never loosening his grip on Stiles' hand. They part their hands enough for the blood to rise up from them. Twin ruby rivulets twine around each other, curling into the air like smoke. Their wolf takes form and its head immediately swivels to Scott. It seems to read the tension in the room easily and it growls at Scott.

Scott can only stand there and gape.

"Cor," Stiles says, "that's enough."

The wolf backs down, trots over to Stiles and wraps itself around his legs.

"Cor?" Derek asks, eyebrows raised.

"That's his name…" Stiles says, blushing.

Derek simply continues to give him the eyebrows.

"What? It's a good name. He likes it. Isn't that right, Cor?"

Cor woofs softly, nosing at Stiles' thigh. Stiles doesn't mention that he picked that name because it's Latin for heart. That he picked "heart" because that's where the wolf came from. He thinks Derek knows anyway.

Scott sinks onto the couch. "Stiles," he croaks.

Stiles fills with sympathy at the sight of him. He looks so lost. In spite of all that's happened recently Scott is still his best friend. It's been rough for both of them since Scott's turning and Stiles can't hold any of this against him.

He gives Derek's hand a squeeze and then pulls away to sit beside Scott. He throws an arm over his shoulders in a brotherly fashion and jostles the young werewolf a little.

"Hey...look," Stiles begins. "A lot...has happened. We've both had to adjust to some pretty big changes, right? Right. So. Maybe we've both been...slacking...on our best friend duties."

Scott looks at him, face all full of vulnerability and hurt.

"Scott." Stiles tries to be gentle. He does. "You have to admit. Since all of this has started...you've…you haven't always been there. When I needed you."

"Yeah, but—“

Stiles holds up a hand. "I know, Scott. I know. A lot was going on. We've both made some mistakes. I should have told you about the panic attack I had at Deaton's the other night. And I should have told you about Derek. You shouldn't have had to find out this way. I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself."

Scott stares at his best friend for a long time. He looks over to Derek and Cor, who is laying across Derek's feet. He looks back at Stiles with that grim determination that makes his uneven jaw even more noticeable than usual.

"I'm sorry, too."

A soft grin quirks Stiles' mouth. "Thanks, buddy. We're okay, right?"

"Yeah…" Scott says, smiling too. His eyes shoot back over to Derek though. "We're not okay, though. Derek."

Derek meets his gaze steadily and Cor turns his head to peer at Scott.

"Hey, now," Stiles starts.

"No. Let me say this," Scott says. He stands up and Cor is on his feet in an instant, alert and ready at Derek's side. Stiles stays him with a hand and the beast waits.

"Derek." Scott takes a moment to work out exactly what it is he wants to say. "I don't care about anything that has ever happened between us in the past or will ever happen in the future. This is my best. Friend. " Scott points back at the other teen. "If you hurt him—in any way—I will rip you apart and I will make sure you stay that way. I'm not okay with you being with him."

"Fine," Derek says, arms crossed over his chest.

"Scott—" Stiles tries to protest.

"No, Stiles. You're my best friend and I don't trust Derek. I'm watching you," Scott says, eyeing Derek to prove just that.

Cor lowers his head, curls his lip back. Understands that Derek is being threatened and doesn't like it.

"Cor," Stiles says sternly and he sounds like his father. "Come here."

The wolf obeys immediately and trots over to Stiles. He's still watching Scott.

"Cor, this is Scott. He is my best friend and we do not hurt him ever. Okay?"

Cor woofs softly.

"Good boy." Stiles runs a hand over Cor's head. The feeling resembles touching clay more than liquid, though his body appears as sanguinary as ever. Stiles isn't surprised by that so much as the fact that he's warm to the touch. Like he's well and truly alive. He tells the wolf, "Scott and Derek are just having a tiff. They do that a lot. It's best just to ignore them."

The affronted parties both pointedly ignore Stiles.

The room becomes tense and silent as Stiles continues petting Cor. It's _unbearable_.

"So…" Stiles starts, "Scott. Any plans for today?"

Scott looks over at him and about half a dozen things cross over his face, starting at confusion and ending at anger.

"Clearly not staying here," he says tightly and heads for the door. "I can see when I'm not wanted."

"Scott—"

"It's fine, Stiles. After all the times I ran off with Allison, I owe you at least this much, don't I? It's fine." So he says. But he still sounds mad. "I don't wanna stick around for whatever it is you two have planned anyway."

He storms out the door with a very final sounding slam and Stiles winces. Cor rolls his head to look up at him and nudges his chin. Derek takes a seat beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders.

"Thanks, guys," Stiles mumbles. "That could have gone better…"

"Give him some time," Derek says, like he's suddenly the expert on teenagers or friendship or _anything_.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles replies. He probably is right in this case. Scott just needs some time to process everything. There is _a lot_ to process after all.

They sit wordlessly for a few minutes, the silence now like nothing of the heavy silence before. It's peaceful and calming; Derek and Cor beside him, pressed up against him, is reassuring.

Eventually, Derek asks, "Where's your dad?"

"Break-in. He'll be tied up for another few hours."

Derek hums. Waits a beat. Presses his face to Stiles' neck. "Come back to bed?"

Stiles rolls a look Derek's way and says, "You're bad. So bad," but he doesn't sound like that's bothering him at all.

"Mhm. The worst," Derek says, nuzzling behind Stiles' ear. "Your father and friends don't approve of me after all." Derek proves exactly how much that matters to him by licking a stripe along Stiles' neck.

Stiles shudders, but manages, "Dad's coming around. Scott will, too. Give him some time," Stiles parrots back and turns a smug smile into Derek's waiting kiss.

The werewolf lets loose a claw and pricks them both without breaking their kiss. Cor obligingly returns to them without prompting.

When Derek lifts Stiles' hand and begins lapping at the place the wound should be; across his palm; in between his fingers; all of Stiles' thoughts melt away. They leave behind only feeling and sensation and touch. The bond within them tumbles around happily. Stiles can feel it, shifting inside his blood stream, soaring through his veins like a bird in the sky.

Derek's mouth pulls away and Stiles stares at him, at his slick, red lips.

"You're incorrigible," he states.

Derek smirks, leans down like he's going to kiss Stiles again, then redirects at the last second and snakes his arms around Stiles' waist instead, rising from the couch, and tossing him over a shoulder.

Stiles giggles and pinches Derek's rear. Derek returns the favor, then walks them up the stairs.

As Derek spreads him across the bed, Stiles sighs in contentment. His other relationships may be treading on thin ice, but this one— _this one_ couldn't be better.

 

Scott seems okay for the most part at school the following day. He gives Stiles a hesitant smile in first period and when Stiles offers him a brofist, Scott bumps it without much resistance. Neither of them mention Derek and things are normal by lunch.

Stiles waves goodbye as Scott heads for his bike and he heads for his Jeep.

It doesn't start.

Stiles frowns at it. "C'mon, baby, don't do this to me." He tries turning the key again and it chugs and sputters pitifully at him.

Stiles growls and climbs out. He goes around to the front and lifts the hood.

A cloud of powder explodes from the innards and Stiles goes out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? Plot out of nowhere? BWAHAHAHA!


	2. To the Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get this up sooner, but I was sick at the beginning of the week! But here it is finally! Chapter two!
> 
> Thanks to everyone for all of your wonderful support so far! 
> 
> Part 6 to follow!

The first thing Stiles says upon regaining consciousness is, "You know...this is getting kind of old."

He's tied to a chair. Again. Seriously that's twice in less than a week. There's a group of men in front of him this time instead of just one, and they appear to be human. They also appear to be hunters.

Their location is something industrial looking and Stiles could yawn.

One of the hunters chuckles and turns to face him. He's an average white male of average build and Stiles is not impressed.

"Oh, is it?" the hunter asks. Sneers, really. "Maybe if you learned not to hang around wolves this wouldn't keep happening to you."

"Maybe," Stiles says. "Or maybe I'd manage to get into trouble anyway."

"Smart ass," another hunter says.

"That's okay," the apparent leader replies. "We know how to deal with smart asses, don't we?"

A hand flies across Stiles' face and his cheek throbs. Oh, good. They're prone to hitting. Stiles huffs a laugh. That's actually going to work to his advantage for a change.

"Ouch," he allows. "So where's Chris?"

The leader scoffs. "Chris is _retired_." He says it like Chris is afraid of kittens.

Stiles is glad to hear that Chris isn't involved in this. He thinks the remaining Argents might be trying to turn over a new leaf.

"Chris Argent is a disgrace to the Argent name," a hunter near the door chimes. "He should be avenging the deaths of his family members, not letting them run rampant while he does nothing."

The deaths of his family members. Well, that'd be Peter-Kate, and technically, Derek-Victoria and Scott-Gerard. Two out of three of those just won't do.

"By all means, take out Peter Hale. Be my guest." They can have Peter. For all Stiles cares the creep should be dead. "I don't see why you need me for that."

"You're for the other two!" one of them snarls.

"The other two?" Stiles plays dumb. "Oh, you mean Derek and Scott? See, that's where you're mistaken. I'm pretty sure Victoria and Gerard were both responsible for their own deaths, so I don't really see what you'd want with any of the other werewolves in t--"

A loud smack resounds in the empty building and Stiles licks his lips.

"Listen here, you little bitch!" The leader is right in Stiles' face. "The Argents were a _legend_. They were the greatest hunter family to ever exist! And now they've been reduced to a pathetic pair that don't even have the guts to carry their family's name!"

Great. These people are _groupies_.

"Kate and Gerard were masters! We demand that their deaths be avenged. The werewolves of this town will pay for what they've done!"

"Kate and Gerard…" Stiles says, straightening back up, "were psychopaths. Plain and simple."

"Shut up!"

Another loud smack. Still no blood.

"They were pathetic," Stiles says. "Murdering a whole family of innocent werewolves? Picking on teenagers? Come on...they were just trying to make themselves look good by going after people who were weaker than them."

"Shut up!"

"They were weak!" Stiles shouts and the hunter brings up the butt of his rifle this time. It connects soundly with Stiles' jaw and gives him exactly what he needs.

The lead man stands there before him panting and red in the face. Stiles spits off to the side and the sight of the little crimson splotch on the cement gives him a thrill.

He faces the man again and his split lip hurts but he grins, teeth lined in bright, bright scarlet.

"Thanks, pal. That's just what I needed."

 

Derek is frantic by now.

Stiles has been missing since Scott saw him after school and the Jeep is in the parking lot and it's already eight o'clock and there is j _ust no trace of him._

Isaac and Scott are with him combing the rundown parts of the city. Derek even snarled at Peter until he agreed to help search, but Derek sent him toward the school to check again. They've already gone by the Argent's house and he's not there, but there are foreign scents of people they don't know and Chris Argent said there are other hunters in town that don't follow the code and Derek is seeing _red_.

They've already looked at the Hale house and the Sheriff's station and the hospital and the animal clinic and the school again and _he isn't anywhere_.

Derek knows the exact moment Stiles wakes up. It's like their bond came back online and is flaring into life all over again under his skin. Stiles is calling him.

Derek almost crashes the Camaro when it happens. Isaac and Scott are yelling, but Derek is already out of the car, not even bothering to pull the keys out. Scott pulls them out and he and Isaac are behind him a moment later, demanding answers as Derek stands there and tries to answer Stiles' call.

He can't. He's too far. But he can sense the direction it's coming from and he takes off running.

Scott and Isaac barely keep up. They  have a chance to catch up though when Derek goes crashing to the ground suddenly. They almost run right past him.

"Derek?" Scott demands. "What's happening? Is it Stiles?"

Isaac is pale beside him and they're both leaned over him.

"It's...the bond…" Derek grits out. It's roaring in his veins. He feels like he's been dropped into the sun.

Derek screams.

 

The hunters scream.

It took some doing to reach out into every direction and search for Derek, but Stiles managed it. Once his magic had located Derek, Stiles latched on and _pulled_. He could feel Derek getting closer as he goaded the hunters on. He knows he's in range when the blood from his lip starts pouring out into the air.

It curls and convulses and scours the room for what it desires. The hunters try to flee from it and duck out of the way as it winds around the room in search of its mate. It's sharp and when one hunter is too slow, it cuts him right across the neck.  The man goes down in a gurgling mess and that's when the guns come out.

The hunters try to shoot at the blood, but it's as useless as the witch's daggers had been. Cor ignores it. Stiles is vastly aware of the wolf's state of mind right now. He can feel the rage building within Cor's spirit, the urge to lash out and destroy _everything_ so strong. Stiles thinks he understands what Deaton was talking about; he can easily see losing control of creature such as this. Cor is single-minded in his quest to find Derek's blood, the agony of being incomplete  making him howl in Stiles' head. Stiles sees it, the terrible end that would befall them all if Cor never found Derek. A goal left permanently out of reach.

It would drive any beast mad with enough time.

But fortunately for them, Derek answers their cry.

 

Scott and Isaac cover their ears at the unearthly roar that Derek releases.

Running on instinct Derek claws open his arm in wide, savage slashes and his blood's departure is instantaneous. It shoots off into the distance, a force possessed.

"Follow it!" Derek shouts at Scott and Isaac, a step behind them.

It's easy to follow the scent of blood and they're at the warehouse in no time.

They burst through a door that's already been blown off its hinges and stop still in the landscape of carnage that greets them. The scent of blood assaults their senses immediately and the viscera that litters the floor still reeks strongly of fear. There's hardly a whole body left anywhere. Stiles and Cor stand in the middle of it, the picture of serenity, a boy and his dog. Stiles looks up from where he's petting Cor's head to smile at them.

"Hey, guys."

"Stiles," Derek says and his voice breaks. He rushes forward to wrap Stiles up in his arms. Stiles laughs a little and pats him, while Cor prances and yips happily around their ankles.

"Aw, you weren't worried about little ole me, were you?"

"Stiles. You were gone and I couldn't find you, you were gone." Derek's words come out muffled, his face buried in Stiles' neck.

"Yeah, I know. They got me after school.  Some sort of powder in the hood of my Jeep. I'm guessing they masked our scents somehow."

Derek nods. The outside of the warehouse had smelled like bleach. It would mask any scent.

" _Stiles_."

Stiles turns his head to look at Scott. His best friend is horrified.  

"Cor...maybe went a little overboard."

"Maybe went a little--Stiles!" Scott says. "He killed every single one of them!"

"Well, not...every single one…" Stiles says and glances to one side of the room. Cor's head swivels and a growl immediately sounds from him.

The hunter who had been closest to the door is  laying there in a heap next to it. His eyes are wide and he appears to be in shock. Now that they're paying attention, the wolves all pick up the sound of his heartbeat jackhammering away.

Stiles strolls over to him and crouches beside him, looking at him with a blank expression. The wolf is over his shoulder mouth hung open and waiting.

“We won’t have to worry about any more hunters, right?” Stiles says to the man.

The man watches him with frightened eyes, but doesn’t respond.

“Because I’m going to let you live," Stiles explains. "And you’re going to tell everyone about what happened here. You’re going to tell everyone what happens when they try to fuck with the wolves in Beacon Hills. The rest of you jackasses need to get it through your thick skulls that we’re _off_. _Limits_. Did I make that message clear enough? Or do you need to go back with one less limb just to make sure everyone gets the point?”

The wolf growls. Stiles’ eyes flash _danger_ and the tension in the air turns to terror in an instant.

The man shakes his head spastically. “N-no. I understand. I’ll pass the message. Please, g-god, don’t. Please.”

Stiles looks down his nose at him and says, “Good. Now I’d get out of town if I were you. Before I change my mind.”

The man scrambles to his feet and hurries out of the room, cradling his injured arm. Stiles watches him go and then stands. Scott is staring at him, slack-jawed, and even Isaac looks taken aback. Derek simply stands near Stiles, impassive, but Stiles thinks he almost looks supportive.

“What?” Stiles says and slips out the knife he keeps on him now and punctures his palm. He gives Derek a look and the werewolf obligingly slits open his arm again. The slashes from before hadn't even healed completely. The wolf disperses and the blood swirls around them almost joyously as it returns through their open wounds.

" _Stiles_ ," Scott repeats.

"Scott, I know this all seems harsh. But these people were crazy. They were fanatics and they were trying to get revenge on you and Derek and Peter for killing the Argents. They had to be stopped and there's only one way to stop psychopaths, Scott."

Scott begrudgingly accepts this explanation. He still shoots a dirty look at Derek though. Like this is all his doing somehow.

Stiles sighs and rubs a hand up and down Derek's back. The touch helps them both.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

"What about the bodies?" Isaac asks, then suggests, "Animal attack?"

Stiles glances around the room. It certainly doesn't look like something a human could have done.

"Let this be Chris Argent's problem," Derek says and loops an arm around Stiles' waist to move him toward the exit.

"Chris knew they were here and didn't share with the class, huh?" Stiles says as he moves his arm to mirror Derek's.

Derek's glower is answer enough.

They retrieve the Jeep and Isaac takes the Camaro and Scott home.

Stiles' dad is working a night shift again, which is fortunate because there's quite a bit of blood on Stiles' clothes that would be hard to explain. Particularly since it doesn't belong to him. In his room he strips out of his grimy clothes and tosses them into a bag to throw away later. Derek is wrapped around him in an instant, quiet and distraught and  desperate for the reassurance of touch.

"Hey…" Stiles' says quietly, petting Derek's arms soothingly.

"I thought I was going to lose you."

Stiles knows he wasn't missing very long. He also knows that doesn't matter to someone like Derek who has lost everyone. So he tells him, "I know. It's all right. I'm all right. C'mere."

Stiles pulls them down to the bed, crawls inside the covers, and settles in with Derek pressed close.

"We're okay, we're okay," Stiles whispers softly, stroking Derek's hair. "We're okay."

 

The next day the body of the hunter that Stiles let go is strung up across the porch of the Hale house with a crude sign hung around his neck.

_You missed one._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? Plot out of nowhere? AGAIN?! BWAHAHAHA!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> http://mommymuffin.tumblr.com/


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